In The Trunk lyrics

Artist  : Too Short 
Song : In The Trunk



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It's on
Where they at, where they at, where
they at

I sold tapes every day me and
Freddy B
Been famous since 1983
Give me ten
dollars, and you straight get blessed
A rap all
about you called the special request
Oakland,
you know I go way back
To coug nuts, fal
stangs, and cadillac's
When homeboys put
vogues on any car
With 6 by 9's smoking
burners
Everybody got addicted to my dopefiend
beat
Whole town fucked around and started
smoking D
Every rap I ever made was about this
town
I made 7 whole albums with no James
Brown
And even though I love his music, I just
can't stand
The way they used it all up and
didn't pay the man
And after 2 platnum albums,
you call me weak
Cause I don't sell records in
the East
Now what's funky, I say pussy on an
old hoe
I guess y'all fools don't know
Why
some good rappers can't sell no tapes
It's not
the company's fault, the shit sounds fake
You
wanna be in the trunk, with the booming
box
While the young bitches ride on your
jock
You can't do it like this homey, so just
pass it
And stop kissing them white folks
asses
It's like you smoked a whole damn
key
You rap so fast you keep leaving the
beat
I'm from the old school, I love
P-Funk
But now rap music is all that they
want
So when I'm in my car, I play
Clinton
And when I'm on the stage I start
pimping
And when I hear your shit, I push
eject
Then I throw it out the window with the
rejects
And when the hard core rappers go
soft
I like to watch when they ass fall
off
Cause ain't nothing worth kicking like a
sucka MC
And any other rappers ever talk about
me
I don't stop rapping, that's all they can
say
And how I dogg bitches, every day
But
if you can't be a dogg, then you're weak
You
be phony like a side show freak
Some rappers
try to come off positive
Where I'm from that
just ain't how it is
They say rap music is
here to stay
But the sucka MC's don't think
that way
It took 8 long years before I got my
break
So I wonder why rapper's make fake ass
tapes
You won't get paid like I did, so give
up punk
And while your in the studio, I'm in
the trunk
You got no choice, so don't flip
that coin
This ain't the military, so you
punks can't join
It ain't pop, it's called
underground rap
From Oakland California and
the shit sounds phat
I'm spitting raps to my
motherfucking homies
That's why they listen to
the one and only
I used to be broke, but now we
all used to be
Got no game for a bitch, all the
game is for me
And these bitches, can't say
shit to me
They could never could fuck with
Short baby
I'm not a tounge twisting rapper
with a funny style
Don't dress hip hop and
dance real wild
But I do sell records like a
motherfucker
Even though you might I'm just
another sucka
I find the beat and then never
switch
Grab the microphone and then call you a
bitch
You want rent money, I got pimp
money
One thing's for sure, I won't give it to
a hoe
I throw a bitch in the god damn
trunk
And start slamming that Oakland
funk
Short Dogg's in the house, once
again
Trying to fade the platnum, with Shorty
the Pimp
And when I do, I'm going straight to
the bank
Withdraw some money and buy some
dank
You can't relate to my motherfucking
homies
That's why they listen to the one and
only
I grew up on the funk called P
But
these motherfuckers growing up on me
And if I
ego trip, and my head is fucked
I take my ass
back, to where I grew up
And get real boy,
it's never too late
Before I do like you and
make a weak ass tape
I'm in the
trunk...

in the trunk, in, in the
trunk
in the trunk, in, in the trunk
in the
trunk beating down the block

in the trunk,
in, in the trunk
in the trunk, in, in the
trunk
in the trunk beating down the block